


Negotiations

by mistrali



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8681338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistrali/pseuds/mistrali
Summary: Even Evil Has Standards, you might say.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for Tris's career is Ankhiale's, from here: http://fiefgoldenlake.proboards.com/thread/48336/modern-emelan

"Her Imperial Majesty wanted me to curse you, you know. That, or shatter that glass dragon of yours."

Tris whirled, and Chime clinked in distress. Ishabal Ladyhammer was standing, expressionless, at the entrance to the west library. Heart thumping, Tris undid her lightning braid and put up the strongest cage she could manage. From behind it, she glared at Ishabal. "Why not do it, then? Why stop at kidnapping my sister and sealing her in a dark box like a shipment of books? Or did you have a crisis of conscience?"

To her credit, Ishabal flinched. Good, thought Tris savagely. She was human after all. "That was not my doing," said Ishabal. "It was Her Imperial Majesty's courtiers who arranged it. But since you ask," she said quietly, "yes, I draw the line at cursing innocents."

"Common decency, then," snapped Tris. "Congratulations. Remind me to give you a prize." She moved closer to the door. Ishabal stepped back, eyes glistening. "Having heard from Cleham fer Landreg, I have come to make you a proposal, one with thousands of gold argibs bound up in it. Will you listen, or simply snipe?"

Curious despite herself, Tris fell silent. She readied a few wind and lightning braids in case Ishabal decided to attack, but the woman only steadied herself against the doorjamb.

"I've decided to offer you a position at the Building Society. Her Imperial Majesty has agreed that should you accept, your siblings will be free to leave or stay, as they choose. No harm will come to them now or in the future."

Tris's skin crawled. "And if I don't accept?"

Ishabal bowed her head. "I can't say what Her Imperial Majesty would do."

From behind her shield, Tris scowled. Ishabal had to do what Berenene wanted or she'd lose her position. And if someone as powerful as Ishabal Ladyhammer could be trapped by a ruler who didn't want to give in, how much worse would it be for her, Tris, if the empress decided she wanted to get rid of her? It was a little frightening to think she was at Berenene's mercy.

But the prospect of scrambling for a living in the market square, concocting love and protection charms, was worse. Tris knew all too well how people's fortunes were made and lost on the day's weather. Her own mother used to panic when storms were forecast for the week ahead. So she'd toyed with the idea of joining a guild or predicting the weather privately for a minor merchant house. But that market would take years to break into. This might be an opportunity far beyond even the annual ten silver astrels earned by an average weather mage.

She took a deep breath. "No war magic. Ever. You have mages trained to war - use them."

Ishabal glanced up. Her expression softened. "My dear, I use most of the letters I get from would-be war mages for kindling. The empire is teeming with them. I admit, though, it is unfortunate. Your talents would be an advantage. You could earn twice as much as a war mage than you ever would as a builder."

How many times did she need to tell these kaqs that her power wasn't for sale to the highest bidder? Tris imagined tornadoes in the palm of her hand and heat lightning blossoming in her mind's eye. How easy it would be, to crisp this woman where she stood or turn the slate to lava underfoot. Nature didn't care what she was worth; the rain and wind loved her. Humans were the same everywhere: people who weren't afraid or jealous of her power saw argibs, davs or astrels. No one saw _Tris_ , she thought, sinking automatically into her magic.

 _Except Niko_ , hissed Briar. _And us and everyone at home, and even Keth. When'd you turn into such a sniffer-skirt, thinkin' everyone's only after you for coin?_

 _Like Yarrun_ , put in Daja. She sounded almost like her old self again. _He always did think the world of himself._

_You sure you weren't a Trader in another life, Coppercurls?_

Tris refused to rise to their bait. _Keep your noses out of it,_ she retorted firmly. Safe in the moonglow of her power, she began to breathe meditation-style. _I'm not about to start killing people. I just needed a minute to cool down. Not a scolding, Shurri bless it._

They withdrew, but she felt them hovering at the edges of the bond. Let them eavesdrop for now - she would discuss it later. "I'd appreciate it," she told Ishabal, when she found her voice again, "if you didn't talk about me and my magic like you were making a Traders' bargain. I'll work for you on my own terms or not at all."

"Very well," said Ishabal at once, plainly amused. "Clearly you know what you want. I'll arrange for a contract to be drawn up, to your specifications and to be overseen by Cleham fer Landreg and an independent mage. I will even send copies to your siblings." She smiled, the first hint of warmth she'd shown so far. "I trust they won't object?" She looked directly into Tris's eyes.

"I'm sure they'll agree," said Tris. She hoped they would, anyway. "I'll need a day or two to inform them. May I get back to my reading now, please? I'll keep the offer in mind." It wouldn't do to sound too eager, after all. She missed Duke Vedris and his plain speech, but she was learning that the Empress's chief mage, too, could be direct if you left her no other option.


End file.
